The Window
by CobaltCereberus
Summary: Fiona Fox, or Farah Taylor, is a beaten and abused girl in the Medieval Ages. Only one window can provide her the hope she needs to survive. I wanted to give Fiona Fox a Medieval Age life from Sonic and the Black Knight. I hope you all enjoy it! One-shot


**Hiya all the peeps who decided to read this! I have posted a new story, which I am planning on being a one-shot. If you peeps like this chapter enough, then I might make more chapters. But, only if you peeps want me to! Anyways, Fiona Fox is my favorite female Sonic character, so I decided to give her a life in Sonic and the Black Knight Medieval ages, as most of the other characters already have. I hope you guys enjoy this! I tried to make it sould like a Medieval girl was speaking throughout this, so tell me if I sould Medieval enough to you. I'm really not use to typing like that... Well, enjoy! Cobalt Woof!**

My life revolves around a window. No, not a window. A passage to the outside world. The beautiful outside world.

That small window that stood over my bed, showering the morning's light over me every day.

The sights you could see outside that window are so gorgeous. In the summer and spring, you could see the popping green grass shoving its way out of the dirt that was fiendish enough to hold those emerald stems to the surface of this world. Flowers, also being held down by the dirt, managed to tower above the crowds of grass and show-off their dazzling colors that could bring warmth to any heart.

Well, any heart other than Sir Sevrin's (Sevrin is Scourge the Hedgehog). That is, if Sir Sevrin even has a heart. Being such the swallow man that he is I doubt that he had the slightest fraction of a heart in him.

Every day. That's how often I am abused by him. Every horrible day.

And when I say abused, I mean full out abusing. The hitting, the screaming, the tears, the starving, the dehydrating, and the worst of all… the loss of hope.

Nearly every day I, Farah Taylor (Farah is Fiona Fox), have to put up with the wicked ways of that man.

Why?

For he is my husband. In my home village, and in practically every village around, it is up to the father to select a husband for his daughter to be wed to. In my case, my dear father chose Sir Sevrin. I must say that I never forgave my father for this. Never could I forgive such a cruel act against me. How could my own father give me up to such a harsh life? I feel not as Servin's wife, but more of his slave. Pushed around and beaten up like a doll. Just picturing Servin's toothy grin and his scars that had been permanently placed upon his chest. His rough fur that matched the color of my gorgeous grass. Those blue eyes that showed innocence, even though there was nothing but evil behind them. All of it sent shivers up and down my spine. He was just so heartless. I never understood what my father was thinking when he picked out my husband.

And I'll never have the chance to figure out. As soon as I had wedded Servin, which was a about a year ago, the two of us had moved far away from my home village. I'm sure Servin on purposely did this to remove me from my comfort zone, just so I would be more weak against his brutal attacks. Oh dear goodness, I do wish that I never married him. I hated being worked around like I was lower than dirt.

That's where my beautiful passage to the glamorous outside world comes in. In this house I share with my abuser there is only pain and suffering, but out there in the world so pretty, there is love and kindness.

The passage makes me remember my days as a child, before I even knew that there was something such as abuse out there. I spend most of my time in the little home my family had, learning how to be a proper lady from my dear mother. I would spend most of my time cooking and cleaning, and on the days that I behaved well enough, I would get to sew the soft fabrics that my mother brought me together and make the most colorful designs. I was actually quite good at sewing. While I lived with my family, I did make nearly all of their outfits and I even made the sheets for their beds. I might as well go as far enough to say that I was the best at sewing in my whole village. On multiple occasions, my friends would ask me to sew dresses and blankets for them to use. Some of them even gave me their toy dolls or interesting objects that they had found while cleaning the house as payment to me. Even though that doesn't seem like much of a payment for someone who had to sew for hours upon hours just to complete the item they wanted, I was merely a little girl at the time. And when I was a little girl, dolls and shiny treasures were the best things one could ever hope of owning.

Oh, how I wish that life could have remained that simple. Now that I am a young woman, I am expected to make actually money instead of toys. I still sew to receive this money, which is why my surname is Taylor, but it is not the same. I use to sew for fun and because I loved to see the designs I could create; now I sew to prevent Sir Servin from giving me a beating. That devil would beat me no matter what I did, but he would be less aggressive if I made money for him to use. So, that's what I do. I sew clothing for the other people who happen to come around, and I make some money which I am forced to hand over to Servin.

There was this one time, however, when Servin decided that he didn't want to feed me any longer. After several days of painful hunger, I attempted to hide some of the money I earned from him, hoping that I could raise enough of it to afford to buy my own food to eat. The plan went well for about three days, but that's when he found my secret stash under my mattress. I would rather now go into details on what happened after that. Let's just say that I got what Servin thought I deserved.

My passage. It is the only thing that brought me comfort throughout the long and cold days. No matter what Servin threw or yelled at me, I could always find comfort with my passage. It never failed me. It was always there to show me the world that lay outside. I loved my passage, and I shall never let Servin take it away from me.

Even though I loved the passage, I never tried to escape through it. I had nowhere to go out there. No matter the pain I go through in here, it is always better than feeling lost in a world out there. I hated Servin, but I hated being lost even more.

True, the world outside my window was magnificent. The rainbow of feelings that rushed through me every time I took a simply peek at the unreachable world, I could feel the warmth creep up into my body, almost causing my heart to melt with pure joy. Every time I looked out the window, I could feel a small glimmer of hope rise in me again.

One time, the outside gave me so much hope, that I sewed a blanket for it. The blanket I sewed had as many colors that the outside did. It had graceful greens, breathtaking blues, pleasant pinks, wonderful whites, and so many more colors that it nearly captured the whole outdoors into one blanket. This was the exact blanket that I slept under ever single night. It made me feel as if I was a part of the world that I wanted to find my place in so badly. Every night since I began to sleep under my blanket, I would have dreams of actually leaving this unjust house one day. I dreamed that I would run away and be free. Be free in a world that I felt at one with. Those dreams gave me as much hope as my window did.

My beautiful window that my life revolved around.

**So, what did you guys think? Do you like Fiona's- I mean, Farah's life? Just so you know, anyone is premitted to use Farah as a character in their stories or in pictures they may draw. If you do use her though, could you please give me credit? Nothing much, just type something like "Farah was originally created by CobaltCereberus" in your description or at the bottom of the story. Noting much, I would just like to have credit for typing this for you all! Other than that, use Farah as you please.**


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